Draco and the Mudblood
by Alakazambo
Summary: A Dramione fic. What happens when the Slytherin prince falls for the nerd from Gryffindor? Includes flashbacks to their childhoods. Rated T for possible language use later. Includes pre and post Hogwarts as well as normal Hogwarts times. My first fanfic so constructive critism would be really appreciated. Disclaimer- I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, sadly.
1. Chapter 1 Age 7

Draco and the Mudblood

Draco's POV

AGE SEVEN

"Mudbloods, Draco. The plague on the wizarding world. Respectable wizards, pure-bloods, like us, we've worked hard over centuries to practise magic without fear. Generations of us have suffered. We were hunted to the brink of extinction simply for existing." My father told a rapt seven-year-old version of myself. He continued his rant with venom. "But Mudbloods," he spat, "Mudbloods, Draco, don't deserve to be called wizards. Their ancestors never sacrificed themselves for magic. They have no claim to it. They will always be inferior to us. Remember, Draco, Mudbloods are scum. Nothing more."

A loud crash emanated from one of the upstairs rooms, followed by shrieks of fury from my mother and squeals of apology and pain from the house-elf. My father's face clouded with anger. "DOBBY!" he bellowed, tearing from the room brandishing his wand. More squeals from the elf. I sighed, pity for the helpless creature flooding my mind. Why didn't my parents realise the suffering Dobby was going through?

Hermione's POV

AGE SEVEN

"Mummy! The hamster's gone mad!" I screamed, bursting into the kitchen with Fluffles tearing around inside my sleeve. Gently, she coaxed him out with food, but he still ran around like a mad thing. I started to cry, terrified that my precious Fluffles was ill. "Stop it, Fluffles!" I sobbed. And he did. I was so surprised that I stopped crying, and just gaped at the hamster, who was now sitting in my mother's palm, washing his face. I looked up at my mother. She smiled. "How come he stopped so suddenly?" I asked, confused. She shook her head, just as bewildered as me.

"I don't know sweetie. Maybe it was magic."


	2. Chapter 2 Age 8

Chapter 2

Draco's POV

AGE EIGHT

I was bored. Unbearably bored. I stared out my bedroom window, wishing I could fly out of it on my broomstick. But my broom was locked away downstairs, and I wasn't allowed to use it for a month. A whole month! Just because I crashed in the neighbouring Muggle village and they had to send two teams of Obliviators to sort out the Muggles! It's so unfair! I didn't mean to crash, it actually really hurt. If only I could escape my room…

Then I saw something odd. My broomstick, flying across the lawn towards my window. It stopped just next to the ledge, allowing me to climb on easily. Adjusting my grip, I realised what I had done. I had Summoned my broom. My first display of magic. Finally! I had been worried I would turn out to be a Squib, like my mother's second cousin. Most of my cousins and relatives had shown signs of magic from before they could talk, but not me. Clearly I'd been saving my magic for something bigger than enlarging a spider or knocking things off a shelf. Pride and elation flowed through me as I flew around the lawn, before I came to a rest next to the fountain.

I watched amusedly as my mother came running out of the house, scolding me furiously for sneaking out. Then her eyes alighted on the broom. For a second, she said nothing, just stared. Her mouth opened, and then closed again. She closely resembled the fish in our lake. Then, slowly, pride flowed over her face like water. She asked me the question she already knew the answer to.

"How did you get the broom out?"

Hermione's POV

AGE EIGHT 

I sat, curled up in the window seat, absorbed in my favourite book. As usual. Despite my parents 'enthusiasm for me to be out with my friends, I preferred the friends in my books. They were quieter. Besides… What if I did something strange when I was out? Like the time I fell off my scooter and cut my arm, and the cut had disappeared within a minute? Or when I fell out of that tree and bounced? Or all the other weird stuff I'd done in the past?

"Hermione, love, Rebecca wants you to go to her house to play." Mum said, poking her head around the door. Rebecca was my best friend, and knew about… me. I had once made her rabbit tap-dance, but she'd promised never to tell anyone. She was one of the few people who could drag me out of a book without me hating them for the rest of the week. I placed the bookmark between the pages of the book and closed it.

"Ooh, look, Hermione, there's a cat on your driveway. I've never seen that one before." I had a look out the window. There was indeed a different cat sitting there, a tabby with markings around its eyes. It looked like a normal cat, but… it was strange. It looked like it was… human. Like there was a person's mind in a cat's body. And it looked like it was watching me.

I shook my head. It was just a normal cat. Of course it was.


	3. Chapter 3 Hogwarts Letters

_**First, I'd like to say thanks to all my readers/followers/reviewers.**_

_**Secondly, I'm sorry the updates so far have been kind of sporadic. Now the holidays have started I should be able to keep them more regular, so bear with me. **_

_**I'm skipping from age 8 to the Hogwarts letters because I was told to speed it up a bit. Plus, I couldn't think what else to write. ;-P. Please review. **_

_**Disclaimer- still own nothing :'(**_

Chapter 3- Hogwarts Letters

Draco's POV

I was sat at the kitchen table, eating cinnamon toast, when it happened. An owl, a distinguished- looking great grey, was tapping smartly on the window with its beak. As both my mother and my father regularly received owl post from friends, family and the Ministry, I didn't think much of it. What could be different about this one?

Except it was addressed to me.

With trembling fingers, I held the envelope, my name and address written in green ink in the thick ivory parchment. The Hogwarts seal was stamped proudly on the back. Carefully, I prised it open. Out loud, I read the letter:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Malfoy,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

I looked up. My parents were looking back at me, a combination of pride and elation on their faces. After a moment, Mother ran to my side and hugged me, followed by Father. I hugged them back, delighted to have made them so happy.

Then my father pulled out of the hug. "You'd better be in Slytherin." he said. He said it casually enough, but the threat was there. If I _don't _get into Slytherin…

Hermione's POV

Strange, isn't it, how just as you're getting used to life, it goes and throws something completely unexpected at you? Like a letter, delivered by an owl, telling you you're a witch. Of course, I knew I was different from most children. And I highly doubted I was the only one. But a school, to teach us how to hone and control our gifts… it never crossed my mind.

My parents were ecstatic, of course. Personally, I think they're glad I have others like me, and I won't be a social reject forever. That said, I wouldn't be surprised if I'm a reject at the new school as well. I always did find it hard to make friends.

I re-read the last paragraph of my letter:

_ As your parents are not wizards, it will be difficult for you to find everything you need without assistance. If you wish, a Hogwarts official will escort you while you buy your equipment. Please state in your return letter if you require this service._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

We'd written back, of course.

_As your parents are not wizards… _Did that mean that most of the students at the school would have magical parents? It would seem I was unusual wherever I went. Great.

Now, all I had to do was wait for my escort.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: I am so sorry! I know I said updates would be more regular, but that didn't happen. Not sure where the time went. Well, I'm writing now and WILL update again soon. Please read and review, I know it needs improvement, this is my first fanfic, so I NEED constructive criticism. This one should be a bit longer than previous chapters.**_

_**Disclaimer - Still not J. K. Rowling so own zilch. **_

Chapter 4- The Hogwarts Express

Draco's POV

"Mother, I'll be fine. Honestly Mother, you can let go now. MOTHER!" I exclaimed as my mother latched herself onto me in a suffocating hug, I swear almost breaking my bones. I let out a strangled gurgle as she (finally) released me. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but I knew my proud, distinguished mother would never dream of shedding them in public.

Not all parents were exhibiting such self-control, though. A few metres away from us, a short, plump, red haired woman was sobbing as she hugged all four of her flame-haired sons, as a small girl, her hair just as crimson, hung tightly to the youngest of the boys. He was tall and gangly, with the look of a puppy who hadn't quite grown into his paws. Despite his height, he looked around the same age as me. This, combined with the extra hugs his mother was squashing him with, made it pretty obvious he was a first-year. I was about to go over and introduce myself, when my father put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me.

"_They _are the Weasley's, Draco. A family of blood traitors if there ever was one. Their father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office, and is obsessed with those filthy Muggles. Don't befriend them, all right, Draco? Stick to your own kind, like that Crabbe boy. And Goyle. They'll be good friends for you." He smiled, but the kindness didn't reach his eyes.

Before I had a chance to reply, the guard blew his whistle, announcing our imminent departure. There was a sudden flurry of activity as the remaining students hurried to get on the train, and parents jostled to get in a good position to wave off their children. The red- haired woman had finally released her son, and was now clutching her small daughter, both crying as they waved. My parents stood demurely on the platform, and after a short wave and a "See you at Christmas!" from Mother, they both turned and strode through the barrier, not even looking back.

I watched as the people on the platform grew smaller and smaller, until the flame-haired woman and her daughter were just a speck of crimson. Turning to Crabbe and Goyle, I groaned inwardly as I remembered I had to be friends with them. I tried to keep my tone light and friendly.

"Shall we go and find a compartment, then?"

Hermione's POV 

I stared around the station, confused. I could see Platform Nine. And I could see Platform Ten. Logically, Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters should be between the two. But what should be and what is are not always the same.

"Hurry up, Nevill, or you'll miss the train. If you want to get to Hogwarts this year..." The speaker's voice was lost in the crowd. I darted through the crowd, desperate to find Neville and the speaker. Surely, if Neville was going to Hogwarts, they would know where the platform was!

Eventually I found her. A tall, imposing woman, who, though elderly, didn't look at all decrepit. She wore an odd assortment of clothes- green robes, a fox-fur scarf and a large hat topped with a leering stuffed carried an immense red handbag, which was almost as wide as my school trunk.

"Excuse me?" I said. She turned, towering above me, the vulture making her seem even taller. "Yes?" she inquired sternly. I looked up at her. "I'm afraid my parents and I are a little lost. Please could you direct us to Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters?" I asked. She released a smile. "Certainly, dear. You must be a first year?" I nodded. "Yes, my grandson Neville is starting this year as well." She gestured towards the small, plump boy at her side. I smiled at him. "I'm Hermione Granger. Thank you."

Once Mrs Longbottom, Neville's grandmother, had deposited us at the barrier and gone through, I suddenly became somewhat nervous. The barrier looked very... solid. Ominously so. If I couldn't go through, then I would look like an idiot, and it would hurt. I glanced at my watch. Ten to eleven. I steadied myself, patted down my hair and walked straight at the barrier, closing my eyes to stop myself stopping.

I wasn't sure if I was surprised or not when I walked straight through the barrier with no difficulty. Opening my eyes, I gasped in surprise as I took in the shining station, far cleaner than the rest of King's Cross, yet somehow lacking the sterile quality. I marvelled at the shining scarlet steam train, the polished paint sparkling in the clear light.

A moving mass of people filled the platform, both children and adults. I watched as a red-haired boy was embraced by his tearful mother and sister, and a pale-faced man say something to his equally pale son. Their hair was so blond it was almost silver, and they both had pointed, almost cruel faces. I had an inkling there was more to that boy than met the eye...

"_Stop it, Hermione! You haven't even spoken to him yet and already you're judging him! What happened to "never judge a book by it's cover?"" _I thought to myself, annoyed at my own judgementality. _**(A/N: Is judgmentality a word? Sorry :-P) **_I watched the other parents mill around, talking to others and saying their farewells, as my own came, startled, through the barrier. I waited for them to catch up before speeding off to the luggage carriage. After some difficulty, we managed to load my new school trunk onto the carriage.

After saying a hasty farewell to my parents, as the whistle had just been blown, I climbed aboard the train and quickly found a compartment that was empty except for Neville, the boy I had met earlier.

"Can I sit here?" I asked, not wanting to impose where I wasn't wanted. Neville looked up and smiled. "Sure." he said.

We made small talk for a while, during which I learnt that Neville was a "pure-blood", so all his family were magical. He was very curious about what the Muggle world was like, having only been to Muggle London en route to The Leaky Cauldron, and having spoken to Muggles very few times- and, of course, he could not ask them what is was like.

It would seem that Neville was a rather unlucky boy, as about an hour into our journey he realised his toad, Trevor, had vanished. We searched the compartment, but Trevor was nowhere to be found.

Neville, by this point, was close to tears. Apparently Trevor went missing a lot, but Neville was terrified of leaving him on the train. Sighing, I offered to go and ask around, to see if anyone else had seen Trevor, and left Neville to continue searching the compartment on his own, in case Trevor turned up.

I'd checked in several compartments until I found one of interest. Two boys were sitting in it, both first-years by the look of them. One was red-haired, tall and badly-proportioned, with big feet and a long, dirty nose. The other was small and slight with dark, messy hair, his face down as he tied his shoelace.I cleared my throat.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy called Neville's lost one." I said. The boys looked up. I gasped inwardly as I saw the dark-haired one's face. He was unremarkable apart from a scar on his forehead. I recognised the lightning-bolt shape from one of my textbooks. _It was Harry Potter. _

"No." the red-haired boy said rudely, turning back to Harry Potter. "Harry-"

"You're Harry Potter." I said. _Skillful Hermione, I think he might already know that! _"I've read about you in "Major Wizarding Developments of Our Time" _**(A/N: this may not be the actual book, but I lent my copy of Philosopher's Stone to a friend, so I couldn't check.) **_Harry blinked at me. "Really?" he said. I nodded.

"Yes, didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it were me. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way." I shook his hand before turning to the red-haired boy. "Sorry, I don't think I know you...?"

"Ron Weasley." he grunted.

"Pleasure." I said dryly. "You two should get into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." I told them. I was about to leave before I remembered Ron's nose.

"You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Right there."

_**OK, so next time- Arrival at Hogwarts! I will try and update soon, but you know me. Wow, this chapter was a lot longer than the others. Thanks for reading! Please favourite/review! **_


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